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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889812">I Used To Be Great Once</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ohmorozovas'>ohmorozovas (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Lance and the Spear [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cursed (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Complicated Emotions, F/M, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, introspective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:55:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889812</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ohmorozovas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is struck with grief. And Guinevere  holds herself together as best she can but someone begins to see through the cracks and is there to catch her when she falls. Literally</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur/Red Spear | Guinevere (Cursed), Red Spear | Guinevere &amp; The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed), Red Spear | Guinevere/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Lance and the Spear [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Used To Be Great Once</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The moment when Guinevere’s heart strays is never clear, but I thought it would be interesting to notice a small shift emotionally. Not a great many things would change at first, but little things in how they act. Sometimes our minds refuse to acknowledge when we’ve fallen out of love or in love until we’re deep into a phase of one of the two.  And to me after dealing with a great deal of pressure that only a woman would experience in Medieval time and a lot of internal conflict for them both, it would not be so out of the blue for her to seek out a confidant or maybe one just catches her when she needs it, LITERALLY. This is a future fic obviously. It is not anti Arthur/Guinevere nor is it evil Gwen and Lancelot. In some ways I think it’s pro both ships. They all just love each other guys.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It feels far too late in the night or perhaps far too early in the morning for this to be happening to them. To either of them really.</p><p>Arthur stands in front of a window in her room, the Queen’s chambers, staring at the sight of the castle and the village surrounding it. A whole kingdom for the boy who had nothing and lost everything. He was given for all his suffering a whole world really, he had everything. Well… almost. </p><p>She knew he couldn’t be admiring what he has earned, what he had worked for. Not in this moment. Not when two months ago, his eyes had lit up as if he only just reached the greatest heights of happiness at her news. It seemed that only in that moment truly had he felt he had been given the whole world. Only for it to have been nothing more than a false promise. </p><p>She awoke mid-slumber to unbearable pain in her abdomen and blood spreading throughout the sheets in her bed. Guinevere had only one thought on her mind in that moment and it was death. Death for her. Death for the child. And death for the promise of a future for the kingdom, Arthur’s Dream.</p><p>No, Arthur’s eyes in this moment were unseeing of everything before him. He was lost in grief in this moment. It was perfectly natural for him to react in such a way, for life had given him hope – hope of a child – only to take it away. On the other hand, she knew there must be something wrong with her. She felt so utterly removed from it all. She felt stifled of all emotions but one, she felt for Arthur. For he deserved everything he could have ever wanted.</p><p>“Arthur, I – “She stepped closer to him as let herself begin but Arthur interrupted before she could continue.</p><p>“– We’ll be alright. Everything will be alright. We’ll be a family one day, my love. It just wasn’t the right moment now, but it will be.” He said, trying to remove his sadness from his voice, and saying it so strongly that she knew he meant to reassure them both. He took a breath before fixing his composure as he tensed his back picked his head back up and let out a deep breath, before turning around to look at her. “I just need a bit of time to myself for a day or two but we’re okay. We’ll be okay.”</p><p>He seemed so in denial with what he was saying. And she saw his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her heart hurt so deeply for him, she had to allow him this. His space to recuperate. All she could do was nod with such sympathy, for she did not trust herself with her words and thought she would only make it worse.</p><p>He gave her an attempt at a reassuring smile before he began moving, closer to passing her on his way to the door out of her chambers, out of the suffocating room in which they stood together along with those who delivered the prognosis – Merlin, the Court Physician, and the Head Fey Healer. Only to stop just an inch away from her to deliver a kiss to her forehead, to spare her love and warmth even when he was filled with such sorrow. As he began moving once more to the door, she was left wishing to erase such an emotion from the world, give him all the children she could just so he would never feel like this ever again.</p><p>She was so lost in the thought of a world in which Arthur would never have to feel pain again and how she could make this come to be, she hadn’t realized Merlin was calling to her until he put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly to bring her back out to the world of the living.</p><p> When he spoke to her, his tone was comforting but urgent, “Your Highness, we must all talk. It is important.” He began speaking softer than before and whispering, sparing glances in the way of the others in the room. “What happened tonight, the problem wasn’t the child…”</p><p>She knew it before he could say. <em>The problem was me. I took this happiness away from Arthur.</em> He continued to speak, she could only hear parts of it. Could only see as his mouth moved as he spoke the words, “…but you see the physician and the healer, they believe…” he beckoned them over and they flocked to her. And they didn’t see the storm brewing within her, the depths of her frustration. And a growing ocean of contradictory feelings. It felt as if everything was suffocating her, demanding she closed her eyes and open them anew. </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………</p><p>It had been a strange day in Camelot, it was as if he was being kept ignorant of something. He wasn’t sure what, nor was he sure why. But it reminded back to those first days when he, as the Weeping Monk, had just turned on the Paladins and made good on Gawain’s wish to see him as a warrior on their side. Back when he had thought him truly dead by the Pendragon men. </p><p>He had always felt he was on the unsteady ground then, he understood why of course, but that uncertainty. It made him long for reliability in his everyday surroundings and the people. And for years since he had become Arthur’s closest friend and most capable knight he had found it. Eight years of it. Three fighting by his side with no promise of anything and five establishing this kingdom and its rule as the country’s finest. But today, there was an anomaly. For it was Arthur who became a discrepancy to the reliability of it all.</p><p>Merlin had called upon him, Gawain and Kaze, and told them that the king was called away on urgent matters for a week at most. They, as the highest-ranking of all the knights of the round table, were tasked with ensuring the safety of the kingdom in his absence, they would speak directly to him. The Queen too, they were warned, should be left at a distance for some days.</p><p>It wouldn’t be too hard on him, he always kept his distance. He wasn’t indifferent to her at all. But he did not keep his distance out of hate for her either. She wasn’t frightening, he’d spoken to her before. Not constantly just sporadically, but never shallow conversations. No, whenever they talked, he felt seen. They had talked well enough for the Queen to know his name, and well enough for her to demand to be called by her true name. No titles, not Red Spear nor Queen. In those moments, he felt like he could almost see her too sometimes... almost. He sometimes wished he could. He just thought it best to stay away because of this.</p><p>But even when he remained away, his eyes never strayed, they always seemed to find her in whatever room they were in. He didn’t have to know if she was in it prior to entering it, the minute he entered the room as if by magic his eyes always found her. So strong and filled with ferocity. She was beautiful.</p><p>As was his routine, when he stood speaking to the knights circled around him, his eyes found her. Walking slowly through the halls, it seemed as if darkness was clouded around her. And she walked aimless, unseeing before her. Her face lacked emotion, let alone a regal smile for her subjects. </p><p>He found himself dismissing his knights, having given them their duties for the day. He should not see them until they report back to him as they ended their shifts. He was concerned for her, he could admit to himself. He began to follow her in the long wide halls, as she continued to move throughout the castle. He remained to the corner’s just out of sight, just near enough to be there would she need him at a moment’s instance in case she stumbles into any danger in her distracted state. But enough that he shouldn’t disturb her solitude, remaining near the pillars and shadows in the hall.</p><p>It felt like an hour of just wandering, watching over her. They had passed far too many people walking throughout the castle. He had never been more aware of the large population that lives inside the castle. But he hadn’t noticed how they were headed for a more abandoned wing of the hospital until he noticed how empty it was midday. </p><p>He hadn’t even seen where they headed, but he supposed she did. It was Uther’s old throne room. Dark and gloomy and abandoned, so different from the beautiful, illuminated halls they had built. She took steps into the dark stone room before she stopped. He felt himself slow just at the door as if he feared she had realized she was followed and she was about to dismiss him for not doing as Merlin asked and kept more distance. She didn’t, instead, she bent slightly in preparation of something, as the preparation he would do in pulling back a taut bow just before releasing an arrow, before she released a most anguished cry.</p><p>Lancelot knew he had seen something deeply private of the queen’s emotion and was about to take his leave before he heard her heaving, was sure tears were falling down her face that he could not see for he was still facing her back. He observed as he noticed her wobble slightly, just as he knew legs shook just before giving out before he decided instead to run to catch her just as she began to fall. </p><p>His arms wrapped around her steadying her as best he could. She did not utter a single word not in thanks nor in distaste at his presence. Not only tears continued to fall, but whimpers also heard. The only movement she made was to begin leaning onto him, burying her face into his chest.</p><p>They stay there near to the ground, him holding her weight up. Hoping she could find some comfort in his warmth. Until the whimpering ceases and the tears stop falling, and only her deep breaths can be heard.</p><p>“Your Highness.” He calls to her softly, his voice betraying the secret affection that has grown from afar throughout the years, to get her attention. Her head lifts up to look at him, here he could see her face was red from unleashing her emotions, her eyes puffy. But below them, her skin darkened, from lack of sleep he assumed. The Queen has been troubled for hours, beginning from the night he could tell. “Come with me.” </p><p>So she did. He led her to Uther’s old throne, an ugly little thing if he were honest, but much more comfortable than the floor she was moments from hitting. He sat her down, hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her, but hardly touching her for it would be improper. And he had done enough improper just minutes earlier. He then kneeled before her as he began asking, “May I ask what torments you so?”</p><p>She refused to look at him again then. It seemed far too many moments to take that he doubted she would answer, perhaps she feels it a slight that he dare speak to her with such frankness. She is a Queen and he a Knight, they are unequal by very definition. But then she spoke, preferring to look to the floor as if it would understand better than he. Her voice was hoarse as the words came out, “The Red Spear is long gone. It’s as if she never existed, the whole world has forgotten her.”</p><p>Lancelot is confused at this and responds with the first thought that came to his mind, “How can the whole world forget her when she sits right here in front of me.”</p><p>“But does she really, Lancelot?” She questions. “Or am I really just a ghost? ... long dead, haunting the halls of this castle with not even a spare thought in anyone’s mind.”</p><p>He remains unsure of what she means to say, but he feels he must argue differently. That whatever pain she may feel may be only imagined. He hoped it was and that she may find happiness once more. “The crown stands tall with great love from all the people, my queen.”</p><p>She seems uncomfortable when he says this, he’s not sure of what. “No. Arthur stands tall... with great love from all the people,” she says, so sure of this fact. </p><p>“The crown has brought glory United the kingdom as one people,” he returns.</p><p>“Again, the kingdom was united under Arthur’s image,” she says and this time she looks up at him, the look in her eyes willing him to see as she sees.</p><p>Lancelot refuses to see as she does, however, and speaks much more frankly, “You discredit yourself, you’re not thinking clearly, your highness.” At her title, he saw something in her tense as if in refusal. </p><p>“No Lancelot, I think for once I’m seeing everything so clearly,” she says resigned. ‘It’s as if I’ve awoken to the world with fresh eyes. And I’ve seen the truth. I am a fraud at most. And at the very least, I am merely a shell of who I used to be.”</p><p>He listens to her and decides to take a different approach to his protest, one he felt might put her most at ease, “No... Gwen –”</p><p>She interrupts, letting his words die in his throat, “–Arthur stands so mighty, a beacon of goodwill and greatness. He’s immortal in many ways. And I stand beside him as nothing more than a whole failure.” </p><p>He refused to even entertain this idea, how could she not see herself truly. He didn’t understand this and in some ways, he wished to refuse to understand such perspective and he next spoke with vehemence as he grasped her hand and squeezed, “You are NOT a failure.”</p><p>She began to smile lightly, it appeared as if some part of her felt touched but he couldn't be so sure. She spoke more openly yet still sadly, “But I am. Yes, I have helped, and I was essential in some ways, for the creation of our new kingdom. But I fail it. I cannot ensure its future.”</p><p>He begins to have an idea of her torment, it was a conversation he felt uneasy about having. Though he didn’t understand why he had his suspicion as to why he would feel like this. Just as he held that very same suspicion as to why he tried to remain so distant from her, though he will admit he has sometimes entertained a secret affection by allowing himself to speak to her every now and then. And so he gives both of them this moment, her wish to be seen for herself and not her title and his denied longing to feel a closeness to her, “Gwen?”</p><p>“I cannot bear Arthur an heir. I was pregnant you see…” she revealed to him, “but I… I failed.”</p><p>He then began an attempt at reassuring her, “It was not meant to be this time, but it will –“ </p><p>She, however, interrupts again, “– no it won’t. Merlin, the court physician, and the Fey healers... they checked. And I can’t carry a child to birth. They say my womb…” She hesitated, “they say I might be cursed.”</p><p>“How do you mean? Is... is there nothing they can do?” He asked concerned for her and what this could mean to her.</p><p>“I don’t know what they mean, healing has never been my strong suit.” She answered, chuckling almost before going on a tangent becoming serious and introspective. “Strategy and war were the only things I’ve ever been any good...” The Queen shakes herself out of her thoughts not even a second later and continues on to speak on the topic at hand, “They say that there are potions and spells. But I feel it through my bones that it won’t work, that it’s nothing but false hope.”</p><p>He simply nods, realizing he shouldn’t fight her on this and instead choosing to listen to her and see things as she does. And in doing so he realizes that maybe the lack of child wasn’t truly the only thing that bothered her as he remembered how this conversation began before devolving and focusing on the idea of an heir. “How do you feel about this?”</p><p>She smiled brokenly at that and she slumped her shoulders as she spoke as if she’s removing a large weight from her shoulders. “In truth... it’s a relief. I don’t feel I am meant to be a mother, I am far too harsh and cold... and broken. How strange that something that relieves me for that very reason also feels like another reminder of it.”</p><p>He only sits there staring at her, he’s never felt more in tune with her and her thoughts. At this moment, he knows he sees her and he feels that she knows that too. Her eyes move back down this time to his hand on top of hers. Though he doesn’t dare move, a part of him thinks she doesn’t want him to because he senses there’s more… and he’s proven right.</p><p>“The worst part of it, my dear Lancelot, is this. I’m also glad for it. For this would have been my legacy. Can you imagine? After all I’ve done, after all the battles I’ve led and won. The only legacy I would have left in this world, is a child. Nothing more than a footnote as a mother to the eyes in the future.” She opens up more, voicing her frustrations and mixed feelings on everything. She then grasps his hand with her free one and looks back up into his eyes. “For it is Arthur who’ll live on, maybe not in body. But in the songs... in the love of a great kingdom and its people. They’ll never forget him.”</p><p>He, instead of choosing to argue, chooses to lighten the mood. He leans forward as if nudging her on and quips, “There are songs about you as well that would never be forgotten.”</p><p>She chuckles at that, a true one, the only hint that lightness and happiness still lived inside her. “Ah yes. Good Queen Guinevere whose only achievement in life apparently is that of beauty and grace...” She rolls her eyes at that. “They’ve forgotten me, the me I used to be. The real me. Sometimes it feels as if even Arthur forgets. Any legacy I leave would be a falsehood and nothing more.”</p><p>At this, he pushes himself forward to let her see herself as to how he sees her, to convince her of this image, “Your love is no falsehood, Gwen. It is great, and it is eternal in ways nothing else ever could be. That will be your legacy if nothing else can be.” He remembers how she vowed to love this land and all its people as her own, Fey, Briton and Dane alike. And she had kept good on it from the minute she had become a true ally to them all.</p><p>There’s a shift in her, he doesn’t see it so much as senses it, he doesn’t know about what it could be but her eyes begin to shine and the smile on her face is so soft as she looks at him. She’s so beautiful, a mere glance from her should burn him in the way the sun should. “At least that’s something… thank you.”</p><p>He feels his lips begin to form a smile, but some part of him beckons the Knight of the kingdom back up to the surface and remember his place. And he takes note of this intimacy with her and begins to command him to break it. So he listens and in effort to put distance between the two of them. “Have you spoken with Arthur about all of this?”</p><p>She stares at him still, as if reading him like a scroll or map from the King’s study. He doesn’t think it took forever to begin to answer, but it felt like it. “Arthur knows about his heir. Everything else…” She begins and he sees something in her face change and she looked so… lonely. And he hated it. “…well I suppose it’s just my burden to bear.”</p><p>In his mind, he forsakes the Knight inside him that beckons him to abandon her in such isolation even in her mind. He grabs her hand sitting atop their pile of hands with his other, which should look ridiculous to anyone else at that moment for it looked like an old child’s game they were playing had they not known the conversation, but this time he can’t help but caress it, to assure her and to show how strongly he wants her to know he vows to it. “You won’t bear it alone. I won’t let you.”</p><p>“Lancelot…” There is so much emotion in her eyes, it often spoke more words than she ever did. But for once there was a sense, or maybe he wished it so much he wound up believing it to be true, of adoration when she stared at him. He could even put his finger on the exact moment when she caught herself in whatever thought or emotion. He had never felt more in tune with her than now, he had never felt he knew another person this well before. And he knew she felt the same as she stared at him before letting her frustration turn to tears once more and letting him see her vulnerability.</p><p> “I used to be great once.” She begins again so brokenly.</p><p>He looks deeply into her eyes and spoke with such vehemence, “You still are.” He doesn’t understand right now but he feels as if something in the world has shifted. It would be years later when he would be laying in between the sheets on the massive bed in Guinevere’s chambers that he would realize how right he was.</p>
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